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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598898">Keeping Control</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrByron/pseuds/DrByron'>DrByron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Trainspotting (Movies), Trainspotting Series - Irvine Welsh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Additional Film Scene, Blackmail, Closeted Character, Dialect, Dubious Consent, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Scottish Character, Somnophilia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:33:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598898</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrByron/pseuds/DrByron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While Sick Boy and Franco live at Renton’s London apartment, tension between the three friends keeps rising. One night Simon witnesses Franco do something that reveals a dark secret - a perfect opportunity to blackmail him.</p><p>[This scene takes place during the film “Trainspotting” and seeks to add additional explanation for canon events.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Francis "Franco" Begbie/Mark "Rent Boy" Renton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Keeping Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I hadn’t even known how lucky we had been to be a bunch of drug addicts back in Edinburgh — it had been a surefire way to keep Begbie out of our place. Us junkies, we all lived together in drugged up harmony, or at least mutual apathy. But since I had moved to London to crash at Renton’s new fancy capitalism-approved place, the situation had changed. It was just the three of us in the zoo-like confines of 14 square meters. Fucking sorry state of being, if you ask me. But Franco and I lived for free, so there was that. A temporary arrangement among friends.<br/>
<br/>
You could tell the fella didn’t go out at all, caused by the fact that he was on the run from the law. Had tried to rob a bank or something. He was a fucking horny radge, that one. Maybe his usual acts of violence were screams of sexual frustration, coming to think of it, because now that he didn’t get to indulge in any of those, he was wanking off whenever we turned our eyes off him. But that was still better than when he was looking for trouble, which still happened often enough. With his own mates! Got angry over the smallest things, just to have an excuse to push Mark or me against a wall, punch our arms or shove us. Rough us up a little. Fucking physical, the bloke. If ye cannae grope um in a sexual wey, grope um in a violent wey — his motto, probably. Mark got him riled up even more often than I did, which was weird — I was provoking him on purpose and Mark was trying to keep the peace. Frank was looking for an excuse to get up close. Fucking gay if you ask me, but too much of a coward. Added on top: Cabin fever, big time. But maybe that was just normal Franco, intensified by the 24/7 exposure. I envied Mark for being able to go to work Mo to Fri and looked for excuses to leave the apartment as often as I could myself.<br/>
<br/>
At least I found out that Begbie was a good listener when he wasn’t pissed off. Not a conversationalist, but in his case I preferred him to be boring over him being a bother. He probably learned more about cinematic history hanging out with me within the last weeks than he ever had in his life. And we could talk sports, burds, schemes to pull off in the future. Which wrong to right, the like. He had less of a conscience than Rents, which made him a fantastic enabler, at least. But all that really didn’t make up for the fact that most of the time, he was a ticking timebomb who didn’t do any work in the apartment and just cause trouble and trash. Why would I clean? And then Mark would come home and be a bitch about it and bla bla bla... I wish I had any money to go out and DO something, I felt almost as trapped as Franco himself. I was looking for an opportunity, something that was NOT the Mark way of getting a job and becoming an upstanding citizen. And that opportunity took a VERY odd shape when it did arrive.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
I’m a light sleeper and Franco surely hadn’t adjusted to that. He probably was none the wiser, had a false sense of privacy when his bedmates are ‘asleep’. On the same mattress, by the way. We shared that thing, three young blokes in their sexual prime, frustrated by life and each other. Do the math. I’ve heard Mark wank off (usually in the bathroom though), I’ve heard Begbie wank off, and they probably heard me at some point — it’s just good manners to not say anything. What else were we to do, stop us and drive each other even more insane? Help each other out? But thinking about it now, Mark probably slept through all of this all the time, and had no clue whatsoever. I think he had taken a liking to popping sleeping pills before he got some shut-eye, because when he was out, he was OUT.<br/>
<br/>
That became clear when I witnessed something that would lead to a shift in our living arrangement. The opportunity. I woke up from an unusual noise that I had become all too familiar with. Franco was going at it again, all quiet like but betraying himself by his shallow, labored breathing. I was never keen on knowing how Franco Begbie sounded while masturbating, but there I was. So I snuck a peek, had nothing better to do. It didn’t really turn me on, but it fascinated me, like, when something sexual was happening so close to you, how could you not be a little captivated? First thing I noticed that he wasn’t lying on eyelevel with me, like he usually does. Mark would lie the other way around, to be as far away from our snoring mouths as possible (while we had to live with looking at each other). But that night, Franco had turned around at some point, facing Mark’s backside instead. He was also lying fairly close to him. And by that I mean real fucking close, like, right up his back, nose buried in his nape, inhaling him like a drug. He was furiously rubbing one out, positively wanking ON him. I slowly sat up, to get a better view and in the assumption that it would give him a clue. But he was way into it. Aye, he was spooning him, rolling his hips all desperately and bothered. He was rubbing his straining erection against the small of Mark’s back like he just missed his goal a bit. Aw fuck, I really didn’t need to see Frank’s pink swollen cock in that state, in his hand, so close to Mark’s naked skin, but there I was. He was obviously fantasizing about fucking Mark in the arse, I mean, he didn’t miss by much. Ah no, he was even starting to give little heated grunts, and I could smell his sex sweat wafting off him, what the fuck. It turned me on in a way that a really disgusting porn would, ken. Yir mind screams no, but yir body recognizes the signs, and reacts. Not Franco turned me on, but the situation. But I would do fuck and start wanking now too, what kind of scene would that be.</p><p>I was dumbfounded by this clear-as-day display: Never would I have expected to see proof right in front of me, in flagranti. I had teased Franco about it for fucking years, because he was so fucking attached to Mark! Behind his back, I had said: <em>Here comes Franco, the angry closeted gay, who dreams aboot sucking his mate’s prick but kicks blokes in the baws instead!</em> But I was half-kidding?! Guess I was right all along.<br/>
<br/>
And he still didn’t notice me sitting there, observing him having his way with the sleeping Mark. With Franco’s eyes shut in the heat of the moment, his hands started to roam all sensually. Along Mark’s side, sliding up his skimpy, tight, obscene shirt. He shoved his paws underneath the thin fabric and stretched it, groping Mark’s flat chest. Fuck, he even started kissing his shoulder like he was some kind of romantic, and not on the rapist spectrum. I reached a point of sexual arousal where I had the choice between fucking joining in or forcefully interfering. Holy fucking shit, how far would the psycho go if I didn’t say anything?<br/>
<br/>
“You having fun there, mate?” I said.<br/>
“Fuck!” He jumped at this shock of his life and withdrew his hands as if there was still a chance to deny it. A chance I hadn’t seen it all. His filthy secret.<br/>
“It wusnae what it looked like— ”He hissed the words under his breath and immediately moved away from Mark and stuffed his prick into his briefs again. The guy wasn’t wearing more than underwear and Mark was also just in his tight t-shirt and short shorts — no wonder Begs got way too riled up to control himself anymore. Franco and self-control are two words that don’t go together.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh? What was it?” I asked, to no reply but uncomfortable silence.<br/>
“Well, well, well... that’s a big fucking secret, Franco, wow.”<br/>
“I wasnae really doing anything—”<br/>
“Naw, ye wasnae <em>actively</em> fucking him, I saw that. You were just fantasizing about it while wanking on him. Fuck me. I knew it. I knew you’re—”<br/>
“Don’t fucking say it. I’m no a fucking homosexual.”<br/>
<br/>
He moved over to me and grabbed my face like he was trying to shut me up. But he just aggressively shoved me off the mattress, away from Mark probably. Squeezing my cheeks with that Begbie rage burning in his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“Well now YOU said it. Not me!” I smirked as much as his grasp allowed.<br/>
“I just needed a wank, mate. Didnae mean anything.”<br/>
“Fair, we all need a wank sometimes. But ‘just a wank’ usually doesn’t include grinding against somebody’s back. Especially if ye keep on hungrily staring after the bloke whenever he’s walking around the apartment in his underwear or a towel. Yir no subtle, Frank.”<br/>
<br/>
He shoved my head away from him, giving me a bit of whiplash. I rubbed my jaw and moved it side to side.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s just about some fucking warmth, ok... I hudnae seen a burd in some time, and when Mark’s turned away...” He mumbled.<br/>
“He reeks of male hormones, he’s got broad fucking shoulders! He doesnae look like a burd, Franco. A pretty man is just a pretty man, and that’s that.”<br/>
<br/>
Franco averted his eyes, staring into the room. When Mark stirred and gave a little moan, he flinched — wow, you don’t get to see THAT often. Franco Begbie, nervous and agitated! Because of Rents, the sensitive wimp! But he was still fast asleep, the unlucky fuck. It suddenly dawned on me... I could make use of this.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay. Ah’m no gonna tell um.” I offered. “But ye owe me, Franco.”<br/>
“Owe ye wha?”<br/>
“We’ll see.“<br/>
He stared at me.<br/>
“Sick Boy, ah swear... ah’m no a fucking buftie, awright. Ah’m jus sexually frustrated, ken? Ye don’t know what it’s like... ye can still leave but ah jist cannae. Don’t fucking tell Mark. Don’t tell anybody.”<br/>
<br/>
“Sure. Tell ye what... ye can even keep oan doing this! Ah don’t fucking care, and Mark surely doesnae either. It’s a shitty thing tae dae, sure, tae yir own mate to top it oaf... but we know ye don do that thing well, the keeping urges in check. So we hafta find one outlet or the other, I presume? Or yir probably gonna kill both of ays in the long run!”<br/>
“IF I kill ye, Sick Boy, it’s because ye tell um anything. We live in this apartment together, so don’t fucking provoke me!”<br/>
<br/>
And there he went, grabbing my throat like it was my collar. I was wearing a t-shirt, for fuck’s sake, just grab that! I softly patted his gay old arm, which made his grip loosen.<br/>
<br/>
“Relax, Franco.” I coughed. “Ah got it the first time. Ah keep my mooth shut, ye owe me a favour. Ye can keep on lying to yirself and shamefully hump Mark while he’s asleep, but like, mibbe tell me. So ah can get oota the wey for a bit. And ye loveburds have yir privacy. Ye could TELL UM, that ye like um. Initiate sum shagging with him being AWAKE. Maybe he’ll even kiss ye? But, well, of course, that would make ye look pretty fucking gay...”<br/>
<br/>
He huffed like an agitated animal and crossed his arms. He was going on defense now, look at that. His eyes were searching, and not that crazy stare again. Was there a hint of curiosity? Hope? Oh Franco, bad fucking idea. I’d make sure to snuff that in its beginnings. Just imagine that: Franco learning to handle his emotions in a healthy manner! Pursuing a relationship with Mark!<br/>
<br/>
“Aye, right...” Franco mumbled. “How do ye think he’d even react to THAT? Ah mean... if ah wis interested...”<br/>
“Oh shit, ah don’t know mate. What if that destroys yir friendship? He probably won’t let ye sleep next to um anymeir... afraid yis gonna jump um. Maybe he’ll throw ye oot...” I cooed. I was having the time of my life destroying his dreams like this. I had him in my hands, I had power over him that I never imagined I’d have. Big bad Begbie was a little scared bunny rabbit and I was the hunter who could set him free or trap him forever.<br/>
Franco hesitated to respond, visibly nervous.<br/>
“Don’t ye think he’s a bit of a buftie, too?” He asked, all quiet like.<br/>
“Wha? He’s only ever shagged burds, hasn’t he?” I gave him a good act of being so sorry for him.<br/>
<br/>
That shut Franco up for some moments. He really had no idea Mark was a raging bisexual, imagine that. Looking closely, you could pin-point the exact moment Franco’s heart broke! He was so needily gay and he wouldn’t even admit it himself. Good for me. I could blackmail him with this dirty little secret until the day we fucking die. No way he’d ever admit it, the raging homophobic. I wouldn’t know what to do if he and Mark... would seriously start shagging while I was living here... But it will never happen! Mark would be a fucking virgin if it wasn’t for me, who helped him shag his first burd. He’s got no game. And Begbie is too homophobic to ever make a first step. And in the unlikely chance of Mark trying anything, Franco would beat him to a pulp in a fit of panic. So even if, for some fucking reason, Mark would like Franco back (but why would he): It was a scientific impossibility.<br/>
<br/>
“...Aye, ah suppose he has.” Franco admitted.<br/>
<br/>
It was like the light in his eyes was blown out. They were looking all pallid and dull when just before, there was this crazy fire in them. Mark was still fast asleep and we both became weirdly aware of it at the same time. We suddenly looked at him, and how he was still turned away from the scene that was playing out in his absence. Fast asleep, none the wiser.<br/>
<br/>
“Yir lucky hes oan the sleeping pills.” I said.<br/>
“Aye... he said he cannae sleep otherwise ‘cause of the stress, his backpain n aw. And ah snore, apparently.”<br/>
“Lucky you, ah guess.”<br/>
“...Jist shut up, Simon.”<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
It was a couple of days later, during dinner. And of course, Mark was complaining again — he was turning into a nagging housewife at this rate.<br/>
<br/>
“I cannae believe ye did this.” Mark said.<br/>
“Hm? Did wha?” I asked.<br/>
<br/>
We ate our fish and chips out of newspaper pages sitting next to each other like birds on a power line, looking ahead at an empty space on top of a side table. There was a square gap in between the layer dirt, dust and cigarette butts, like a shadow.<br/>
<br/>
“The telly! Ah cannae believe ye sold the telly!!” He put his chip down with angry finality, after holding it for too long without eating.<br/>
“Ah needed sum money, Mark.” I snatched some of his chips and stuffed them in my mouth.<br/>
“That wis MY telly!”<br/>
“Ah got a good price for it?!”<br/>
<br/>
I gave auld Franco to my right a little side glance, ‘cause he’s been very silent throughout this conversation. Minding his own food, looking ahead as if he was still watching television in his mind. I kept looking until I was sure he was avoiding my gaze. Good! He had been pretty fucking opposed to me selling the telly, but ah hud told um: It’s the telly or ah tell Mark about his wee little secret. He couldnae argue with that.<br/>
<br/>
Mark to my left leaned back to also throw Franco a look behind me. But he was ignored in much the same way. Franco pretended like we wisnae even there.<br/>
<br/>
“Ye couldnae stop um? Yir fine with this?” Mark said.<br/>
“Mh...” Franco mumbled.<br/>
“Ah thought ye wis watching telly aw day. Ah don get it...”<br/>
<br/>
Franco just gave a noncommittal shrug without looking at him, not even smart enough to find an excuse. Suited me just fine. Mark’s disappointment with his old mate was tangible and Franco’s nervousness showed in a placid calmness uncharacteristic for him.<br/>
<br/>
This opportunity had improved our living situation dramatically. I could do anything I wanted now, with no worry of consequences. With Franco being on my side as the new unexpected and unusual default, I was untouchable. The magic of a little blackmail! Thank god Franco was gay AND a coward! The only thing that would stop me from selling all of Mark’s belongings was if he would throw us out OR Franco confessed his gay love to him — and neither of that would happen anytime soon.</p>
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